A New Adventure
by MixedBreedMaiya
Summary: Now that Voyager is home, its captain finds herself at a loss for what comes next. Fortunately, her former first officer is there to provide some guidance - as well as seize a chance they finally have. (JxC; assumes Cx7 never happened.)


Hello! Wow, it's been a while since I wrote for my first love. I can't even tell you how nice it is to be back, and I want to thank everyone for their kind words. I know pieces of this are rough (my beta just got a new job and has no time for little old me), so if you find little errors, I apologize. I'm fixing them as I find them. xD

So, for those who have already read it, I hope you could overlook the cringey mistakes, and to fresh eyes, I hope you enjoy it!

* * *

It was nothing new. They had set down on more than their fair share of M class planets over the past seven years. Trees outside her ready room window; grass beneath the landing struts; a blue sky overhead; fresh air right outside. And every other time, she would have been right out there with the wind on her face and soft, solid ground under her feet. This time, though... It was different. It was almost like a dream, and she couldn't quite decide, bizarrely enough, whether it was a good one or bad.

Captain Kathryn Janeway sat on the sofa inside her ready room, facing sideways so she could stare out at the world outside. She had one elbow on the back of the seat and her chin in her hand while her mind and heart played a game of tug of war. There in the distance, she could see the towering main building of Starfleet Headquarters; around it, the sprawling city of San Francisco where countless ants, some in uniform, others as civilians, bustled about. Somewhere among them were her crew, undoubtedly sharing in tearful reunions with loved ones and old friends. _Voyager_ was secure, landed neatly on the Presidio – just where it would purportedly stand as a museum, if her future self had spoken the truth. And now, for the first time since launching on its maiden voyage – no pun intended – it was empty.

Except for her.

The silence was deafening. Most of the ship's functions had been taken offline for the time being. A team of engineers was being gathered to come inspect from stem to stern, taking note of every dent, every crack, every change (she didn't envy them the task of cataloging the Frankenstein's monster of mish-mashed technology), but they weren't there yet. The decision had been made to work on the vessel on Earth itself, rather than Dry Dock, and many of the qualified officers therefore had to catch transports. That gave time for the crew to disembark and the proverbial dust to settle, and it also gave the captain time to... To what? Reminisce? Lose herself in thought?

Avoid leaving, maybe?

Kathryn drew a deep breath and released it, closing her eyes. Seven years, she thought. Seven years had made this ship more than a collection of bulkheads and circuitry. Seven years had made _Voyager_ a home; a hundred and fifty people a family. For seven years, she had been at the head of that family. She had been _The Captain_. It was what she knew. It was who she was, what she did. Always leading her people closer and closer to home. Always believing they'd get there someday. _Someday_. Yet in all of that, she had never quite hammered out what she would do when (or if) that someday came. It was almost funny; she couldn't imagine waking up as anything other than _Voyager_ 's commanding officer. She wasn't entirely sure she knew what she was now that the captain was stepping down. Of course she was a Starfleet officer, and there was the knowledge that she could well receive a promotion, but all of that seemed distant, like she belonged here, in this room, in the last seven years, and someone else entirely belonged out there, living the rest of her life and finding the future they had all worked so hard to create.

A chime at the door actually startled her into a jump, and she turned her head to blink at it. She certainly hadn't expected company, and there was a quizzical note in her reply of, "Come in?"

Her first thought as the door hissed open was Admiral Paris come to find her with expectations of a report she had yet to be able to formulate; then, Mr. Barclay, their most enthusiastic benefactor. Either way, it meant pulling herself together somewhat, and she braced to stand and raise a mask of composure. When her visitor walked in, however, she sank back into the seat and arched an eyebrow at her – former – first officer.

"That's a relief," she informed him dryly. At his puzzled expression, Kathryn waved one hand vaguely before extending her arm out along the back of the sofa and crossing one leg over the other. "I thought I was about to have to make my presentation."

Chakotay smiled in response. "Not yet," he chuckled. "Though I'm sure everyone is looking forward to it."

She hummed noncommittally. When he gestured toward the seat next to her, she nodded and shifted a little to give him more room. He came forward and eased himself down, interlacing his fingers between his knees. The look he was giving her was one of gentle scrutiny. It was an expression she was well used to, and one, she thought with a pang, she might shortly never see again.

"Everyone but you, I take it," he observed.

She cast her gaze back over her shoulder briefly. "I'd be lying if I said I was excited to have that particular talk. Just how _do_ you explain your future self traveling back through time to hitch a ride with the Borg?"

His smile widened, and he dipped his head. "That's a good question." She smiled a little, too, but Chakotay continued. "But I don't think that's why you're sitting here all by yourself."

Ah, ever the insightful one. Her smile faded slightly, became more wistful, and she rested her eyes blankly on the ready room door. "No," she agreed softly after a beat. "It's not."

She could see him still watching her in her peripheral vision, and she knew he was waiting on her to elaborate. The trouble was that she didn't know how to answer his questions, either, because she hadn't even been able to answer her own. She almost wondered if this was worse than having to present a report to the higher-ups. It helped, though, that the man sitting quietly beside her was the one person in the galaxy she trusted more than anyone.

A minute more passed, and she shook her head. "Strange," she finally offered.

"What is?"

"All of this. Being here, being... _home_." Again, Kathryn looked through the enormous window. "Being a few decks away from setting foot back on Earth. It doesn't feel quite real yet, I don't think."

Chakotay nodded slowly and followed her gaze. "I know what you mean. After so long and so many near misses, I think a lot of our people are waiting for the other shoe to drop."

That would be just like them, wouldn't it? Half of a smile tugged at her lips again. "Speaking of that, any word on the former Maquis?" she asked, nudging the conversation a little further away from her. Redirection rarely worked with this man, but a girl had to try.

"Nothing concrete yet, but no one's been arrested on sight, so I think we're in the clear," he teased. "At least so far."

She chuckled. "That's good. I'd rather not have to bail you out our first day back."

He shared the laugh, but it was clear he still had questions when he shifted to face her a little more. "...Kathryn," he finally prodded more directly. "Would you like to tell me what's going on here? Why are you hiding in your ready room?"

"Who says I'm hiding?"

"You've been sitting alone in an empty ship for two hours. Even Seven of Nine left, and Harry tells me he practically had to drag her out of Astrometrics. I would think you of all people would be out there. After all, you've just beaten the odds."

That sounded about right. Their resident Borg had overall been the least enthusiastic participant in their journey homeward, and certainly the most apprehensive about the achievement of that goal, but it was true; despite Seven's nerves, even she had gone. And here sat Kathryn Janeway, arguably the most driven person aside from Harry Kim when it came to reaching the Alpha Quadrant, by herself, unable to leave and join the celebration taking place on the other side of that window. Not because of duties or any loose ends that needed tying up, just...because.

Was she hiding? Maybe so.

This time she did sigh, kneading her forehead gently. "I don't know," was her response, and an honest one at that. "I'm not sure I understand it either. It just feels...odd that _Voyager_ isn't my ship anymore; that the crew isn't _my crew_. The family is breaking up, Chakotay – in the best possible way, and don't get me wrong, part of me is thrilled beyond words, but...it's still breaking up. The mission is over, and I'm not your captain, anybody's captain, anymore. This isn't _my_ ready room anymore. And after seven years of obsession and trying and failing and trying again, all of us, together, I'm honestly not sure I know what to do with that."

Chakotay scratched the side of his face idly and nodded again. "It can be difficult to find yourself without a purpose when you meet a long-term goal. I can imagine why you might feel lost. You poured everything into getting your people home, and you've done it – sooner and in better shape than any of us thought possible. So what's next? It makes sense."

"Unfortunately, 'making sense' doesn't fix the problem, and we both know I hate the unsolvable."

He smiled. "I have a vague idea."

"Ha, very funny," she retorted in good humor. Kathryn pushed to her feet, feeling older than she was. He was right, though. Up until this moment, she hadn't really had time to think of what was "next." There had always been something to do, and now... She turned to face the window head-on and propped her hands restlessly on her hips. Mark was out of her life. She had her mother, her sister, but now that her number one priority had been achieved, even though it was more than she could have hoped for... "It almost feels like I'm losing everything, I suppose." Even coming out of her own mouth, the words sounded strange.

Chakotay stood as well. "Some things might be over, but you're hardly losing everything. Kathryn, you have the rest of your career ahead of you; a _life_ ahead of you."

"Captaining _Voyager_ was never just a job, Chakotay. It was a privilege; it was being part of something; it was who and what I am. Every time we met someone new out there, it was 'Captain Kathryn Janeway of the starship, _Voyager_.' Now, it's... Hell, I don't know what it is."

"It's Kathryn Janeway of wherever and whatever you want it to be," he supplied. "It's getting out there and finding a new adventure. I know you, Kathryn, and you're not going to roll over and quit. You just have to find something else to devote yourself to, and when you achieve that goal, find another. This isn't the end of the line; it's the beginning of something brand new."

"It's the finding something else that might prove challenging." Aimlessly, Kathryn wandered down to take a seat on the edge of her desk. She even ran one hand along the surface a little nostalgically, if one could be nostalgic for just a handful of hours past. "I'm going to miss it. I'm going to miss _you_ ," she added, looking back at him again with a bit of a sad smile.

Chakotay followed her and leaned against the desk next to her rather than sitting. "I'm not going to vanish into thin air, you know."

She rubbed her eyes. "I know I'm being irrational," Kathryn assured him. "It's just that when I set foot out there, all of this _does_ end." She gestured at their surroundings. "For good. Things are bound to have changed since we've been gone, and this, right here, is what I know." It felt like all she knew.

"You've never been one to shy away from a new experience. Maybe you can think of it as a first contact situation," he joked, earning another smile and a roll of her eyes.

"The day I call going back to Indiana to see my mother 'first contact' is the day I resign my commission."

"I somehow doubt you'll ever do that." Finally, he lowered himself down onto the desk.

She shook her head and drew another deep breath, this time not restraining the sigh. The smile turned weary when she felt him rest a hand on her shoulder, and she reached over to pat it in gratitude. She was being silly, and she knew it.

"Well, that's about enough existentialism for one day, hm? What about you?" She twisted to retrieve the almost-forgotten cup of coffee on her desk and take a sip. Kathryn pulled a subtle face. It was lukewarm at best, and she peered dubiously down into the dark liquid as she asked, "Have you thought about what's _next_ for you?"

When she looked over, his eyes were still on her. "...I've done some thinking, yes," he said after an odd pause that made her frown quizzically. He stood, though, and offered a hand to her. "Come on. A walk for old times' sake."

"Old times," she snorted, but she took the hand and let him pull her up, setting her coffee back down.

Together, they left the ready room for the last time. When the doors hissed shut behind her and she looked over the empty bridge, she felt her stomach tighten just a little. Kathryn actually had to stop for a moment just to drink it in, every station, every console, every line and curve of the room. Chakotay stopped with her, and she couldn't help but feel they were sharing in a heartfelt goodbye. There was even a faint pricking behind her eyes, and she wouldn't have been ashamed to admit her vision blurred. It was almost painful, and after he had gently taken her arm and nudged her back into movement, she couldn't help but run her hand along the railing almost lovingly. There in the turbo lift, she turned one final time for one final look before the doors closed.

"Deck two," Chakotay commanded. He was met with an acquiescent chirp, and away they went.

When they stepped off the lift just a moment later, he motioned her out first and then followed to fall back into step at her side. For a while, they walked in silence, left to their own thoughts. There was no urgency in the ambling gait they established, arm in arm now.

"So," she finally began once her poor stomach settled back down, though she kept looking at each door they passed despite herself, reading all the names that would soon be changed. "This 'thinking' you've done. I heard a pretty little rumor that you might be resigning from Starfleet again." Kathryn glanced his way, and he nodded once in return.

"It's already done. I sent my resignation an hour ago."

"Get a better offer?" she mused. It wasn't entirely a surprise; while the Maquis were long gone and he had been an exemplary crewman in the Delta Quadrant, he wasn't the born and bred officer she was. He had the chance to branch out and find himself, remake himself. In a way, she supposed that was the very thing she was dreading having to do herself.

He chuckled. "Serving as your first officer was fun and everything, but I'm actually hoping to settle down."

"Settle?" she echoed. She tilted her head. "I thought you might want to teach. Paleontology, right? I'm sure you could find a position easily."

Chakotay nodded. "Maybe, after a while. For now, a quiet life is what I'm after. Getting used to being back is something we'll all have to do, and I doubt it'll be easy for any of us."

"Mm." Kathryn used her free hand to scratch the arm linked with his. That was true, she supposed. It was just that while _Voyager_ 's fearless, dauntless commander was scared of the process, most other people seemed eager to do just that.

"Maybe you should consider the same thing."

This suggestion surprised her, and she blinked at him. "What happened to 'I doubt you'll ever resign'?"

"Just because you're not resigning doesn't mean you can't take some leave. You have been at this for seven years under the most strenuous conditions imaginable. You could probably use some time to acclimate, get back to basics, and then come back swinging. I don't think Starfleet would begrudge you that much."

A boxer's metaphor if she'd ever heard one, she mused. She shook her head, though. "I wouldn't even know what to do with myself. I'm not even sure if they made me an admiral right now that I'd know how to function outside of a ship."

"That's probably why you should do it."

"...Probably," she conceded. Her voice softened as she continued after a beat, "Settling down. That's a thought, isn't it?"

In their wanderings, they had come across the mess hall, and as they walked in, it was like another soft jab of a reminder. It, too, was empty, the kitchen entirely dormant. There were still bowls of fruit gathered from the other side of the galaxy sitting on the counter, juxtaposed with the sight of San Francisco right outside the enormous viewport. It was apropos, she had to admit, for exactly how she was feeling: caught between two lives.

Chakotay followed her lead over to the window, where they both stood and looked out over the city. "Have you ever thought about it for yourself?"

She snorted mirthlessly and untangled her arm from his to prop herself up against the frame with one hand. "Not since that letter three years ago. It's been out of the question for so long; I never thought I'd get the chance. A husband, _children_. Somehow, I don't think that's my future. Think I might be married to the uniform."

He looked down at the floor briefly, then back up to the view that still didn't quite feel real. "Plenty of Starfleet officers have families. I don't see why you couldn't pursue it."

She shook her head, though, slowly and wistfully. "...I don't think I'll ever be able to feel as close to anyone," she said quietly, "as I've felt to everyone here. It's an experience that really can't be shared... Even if Mark had waited, I'm not sure, at this point, that we could be happy together."

"I agree. It's hard to imagine such a strong bond with anyone else after all we've been through."

Kathryn turned her head, the arched brow showing her confusion. "Didn't you just say..."

"That I wanted to settle down? I did, and I do. And now that we're back, and this," he said, reaching up to take his rank insignia from the collar of his shirt and hold it in his palm, "doesn't mean anything anymore, I'm hoping I might just be able to." He was smiling again, and there was something different in it. His eyes were laughing, but they were also tender. After a moment of processing his words, her brow shot up and she turned to him with half of a grin.

"There's someone on the _crew_?"

This time the laugh was audible, and she took that as a yes.

"Chakotay!" She tapped him gently in the chest with the back of her hand. "Who is it?"

He was clearly enjoying this little moment of revelation, and at first he didn't even answer, letting her draw her own conclusions. Kathryn wracked her brain to figure out who she might have seen him spend time with more than anyone else. They shared almost everything; knew almost everything about each other. She felt like she should know, but no one was immediately coming to mind. "Come on, you have to tell me. You can't just drop a bombshell like that and then leave it."

Chakotay rejoined his hands behind his back after tossing the insignia onto a table behind them. "Well," he mused, his voice even, "she's someone I respect a great deal, who never lets herself take the easy road in any situation. Someone strong and intelligent, dedicated to her cause and her colleagues. Someone I've admired from the day we met under the most unlikely circumstances. Someone who deserves to finally live her own life."

Something tickled the pit of her stomach, and she folded her arms distractedly across her chest to peer up at him. He wasn't looking at her anymore, but out the window instead. That same smile was on his face, though, easy and amused – and fond. This mystery woman was important to him, that much was evident, but something in his words...

"And someone I've been standing beside for seven years. Someone I can finally be honest with because, by her own admission...she's not my captain anymore."

Now he did turn his head to meet her wide eyes. She was staring very openly at him, and there could have been twenty other people in the room and it wouldn't have mattered. The galley, the view outside, her worries and fears and confusion about the future – nothing else factored in while this information trickled down and filtered through her brain like some algorithmic sequence, only more complicated. It was probably good they were so close to the view port, as she sank down slowly against the frame.

To be fair, they had been through just about everything together. They had lived, laughed, cried, nearly _died_ together countless times. She felt closer to this man than any other person she'd ever known, including her ex-fiance. Closer than she ever would have thought possible. But there were boundaries, had been boundaries, formed of rank and protocol, and they had never crossed those.

Now he had removed those boundaries, that safety net. She _wasn't_ his captain anymore. She wasn't a higher ranking officer. He wasn't a subordinate, even on paper. He was just him, and for purposes of this conversation, she wasn't a Starfleet officer; she was just her. Distractedly, she brought the back of her hand to rest against her mouth.

"...Chakotay..."

He turned more fully to face her. "I'm sorry," he offered. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"I'm...not sure scared is quite the word."

"Kathryn..." He came forward and looked down at her while she continued to stare. "We've been through every kind of hell known to man, but we've always done it together. I don't want that to end just because we're home. We have a chance now at a normal life. All of your defenses, all of the distance you had to keep – you don't anymore. _We_ don't."

She opened her mouth, then closed it. One blink, two. All of a sudden she didn't feel quite as intelligent as he'd said. "No," she finally replied faintly. "No, I guess we don't."

"And I don't want to. I want to keep supporting you, not on the bridge of a starship but in life. You mean everything to me, you've meant everything to me for years, and as we find this new adventure, I want us to do it together. Just like we always have."

"And...your resignation was..."

He shook his head. "No. This isn't the only reason I left," he assured her. "I left Starfleet the first time for reasons I still hold. They're no longer my enemy, but I'm not interested in a career there. You are, though, and I want to help you realize that goal and every other one you could make, if you'll just let me."

Chakotay reached down and took her hand to draw her up. His thumb stroked back and forth across her knuckles, and he was smiling at her again. That smile. Her cheeks warmed, and she had just enough presence of mind to hope that didn't mean she was blushing. He closed a little more of the distance and lowered his voice.

"Tell me no, and that will be that. All I'm asking is that you give me, give us, a chance now that that chance is ours to take."

Slowly, she brought her free hand up to lay it against his chest. Kathryn searched his face while she scrambled for some kind of answer. It _wasn't_ a shock, and deep down, buried under the propriety of rules and ranks and hierarchy, she cared for him too. Greatly. Brave and loyal, gentle but strong. He was her best friend, and if they had met and gotten to know each other under different circumstances, she could see herself falling for him.

But different circumstances were exactly what they had now. She was afraid to leave the ship and change everything, close the book on the chapter written over the last seven years, but he had said it wasn't an end but a beginning. Maybe... Maybe there was merit in that somewhere. She could feel the telltale ticking in her gut that said yes, she was attracted to this man. And here they were, standing within inches of each other. They had been close before, but contextually, this was lightyears away.

He wasn't part of her crew. He wasn't her first officer.

There was nothing stopping this.

This was dangerous territory.

This was a new adventure, just like he'd said. So what response did she have? What response _could_ she have?

She wasn't sure just how long they stood there, fingers now woven together. Her heart was pounding, and despite the calm on his face, she could feel the quickness of his pulse, too, with her other hand at his chest. New adventures. New goals...

"Okay."

It was Chakotay's turn to blink, but only for an instant before his smile widened and he took her other hand to hold it there near his heart. A smile slowly crept across her own face, and she had to laugh quietly at the _relief_ she saw in his.

"Permission to do something I've waited years for, Captain?" he murmured.

"Permission granted, Commander."

"I'm not a commander anymore," he reminded her. But before she could reply, he released her hands to cup her jaw instead and pressed his lips to hers right there in the sunlight falling through the window. Likewise, after a muffled chuckle, she returned the kiss neither had ever dared expect. It was strange, but it was _right._

Maybe there were perks to not being _The Captain_ anymore. Maybe – just maybe – the next chapter would be the best of all.


End file.
